


years to keep

by lunestained



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Loosely Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Time Skip, osamu pov where he yearns and yearns, suna runs from feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunestained/pseuds/lunestained
Summary: Osamu whips his head to the entrance, ready to welcome the late customer.“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. What can I —” he falters when his eyes meet the guest.The man who stands by the entrance is no stranger to Osamu nor a regular of Onigiri Miya but he is the last person Osamu expects to see.“Rin,” he breathes.Rintarou fidgets in his place and doesn’t take another step forward, his gaze on Osamu wary as if he’s unsure about coming closer. Osamu clutches the towel in his hand tight enough for him to feel his nails dig into his palm.“Hi. Been a while, huh?”Alternatively:Osamu and Rintarou have been in love for as long as they can remember.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 132





	years to keep

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. the story jumps from present to past  
> 2\. the reasons and timeframe for suna's move to hyogo is not as followed in canon for the sake of the story  
> 3\. songs that inspired this fic can be found in this mini playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2LcObBHxbVEBnm2BMbZwbB?si=UBKyQ8KYT96x2WbVbePy1A)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

“Thank you for your hard work today, Aoi-san. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Osamu waves goodbye at his employee; an older fierce looking lady whose lips are always lined with bold red lipstick and platinum blonde locks that stop right above her shoulders. She’s the best one he’s hired yet, exceeding all of his expectations and standards. If anything, Osamu has more to learn from her. 

It is fifteen minutes before Onigiri Miya closes for the night when Osamu tells her that he can handle the rest by himself and to only help with throwing the rubbish in the kitchen as she clocks out. It takes some persuasion to get the woman to leave early but she gives in eventually with a smile of gratitude etched on her lips.

The restaurant is empty, a usual occurrence on weekday nights, and he decides that it’s a good time to begin cleaning when there’s a slim chance that a customer will enter minutes before it closes. 

He pulls out the cleaning supplies, whistling to the tune of a pop song that he knows is at the top of the music charts for the month as it plays on the radio every single time he sits in his car. It isn’t a song he particularly enjoys, not really. It just happens to be a song that lives in his head rent free because it is so addictive. Pop songs do that to a person. 

It is always quiet and empty at this time with the world preparing to retire from the busy day and get ready for another one on the next, and Osamu finds that while the quiet helps him to unwind it is still uncomfortable. 

Growing up with a twin who never leaves his side, it was never quiet. Atsumu takes every opportunity to talk his ear off about everything and nothing from the second they wake up until they sleep. Osamu would have sold his soul for a moment of peace away from his twin. And yet, now that Atsumu is no longer by his side he finds himself unable to bask in silence for long periods of time when he is alone.

The bell that hangs above the entrance of Onigiri Miya jingles as the door swings open whilst Osamu wipes the table. The sound startles Osamu, his whistling stops mid-tune as he’s about to enter the chorus. He recovers quickly, straightening up as he takes a subtle glance at the watch wrapped around his wrist. Seven minutes before closing. 

Osamu whips his head to the entrance, ready to welcome the late customer. 

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. What can I—” he falters when his eyes meet the guest. 

The man who stands by the entrance is no stranger to Osamu nor a regular of Onigiri Miya but he is the last person Osamu expects to see.

“Rin,” he breathes. 

Rintarou fidgets in his place and doesn’t take another step forward, his gaze on Osamu wary as if he’s unsure about coming closer. Osamu clutches the towel in his hand tight enough for him to feel his nails dig into his palm.

“Hi. Been a while, huh?”

* * *

_nice to see you,_

_how you doing,_

_did you know you’re really something._

* * *

Osamu sits in the kitchen, hand dipping into the bag of potato chips as his mother busies herself with cooking behind him. Songs from Miki Matsubara’s popular hits CD resound the Miya household, a must-have when Hayami is home on weekends as she goes about her motherly duties. 

“How much longer, Okaa-san?”

“Be patient.”

He slumps in his chair, bottom lip slightly jutting out as he reaches for the last of his potato chips. The snack is snatched from his fingers just as he is about to bring it to his mouth. 

“Tsumu!”

The potato chip stealer unforgivingly chews on the last chip, eyes glinting in mischief as he hums happily. A strangled noise comes out of Osamu before he kicks his twin’s shin with all the strength in him and Atsumu stumbles then plops on the floor with a thud as he yelps in pain. 

“That hurts, stupid!”

“Yer stupid! That was mine!” 

The chair screeches as Osamu slides back to stand and give his brother another kick. Atsumu yelps once again, body curling on the floor as he tries to shield his face with his arms. 

“Mom!” 

“Osamu, stop that. Atsumu, apologise to yer brother right now.”

Hayami’s back is on her two sons as she continues chopping the spring onions but the exasperated lilt in her voice is enough for Osamu to sensibly set his foot on the ground. He glares at Atsumu as he looms above him. 

Atsumu takes a peek at Osamu between his fingers and sits up when he is sure that he will not be kicked again. He rolls his eyes and mumbles out an apology. 

“Do it properly, Atsumu. And don’t roll ya eyes at yer brother.”

Atsumu freezes, his eyes widening along with Osamu’s when Hayami chides him for rolling his eyes. She’s still not looking at the boys and there’s no way she actually saw Atsumu’s actions. A proper apology that sounds sincere enough in his books rolls on his tongue. 

They glance at their mother who leisurely slides the ingredients on her chopping board into the pot as she hums to the music then glance back at each other, holding a conversation without outspoken words. 

_How’d she know?_

_I don’t know!_

_That’s so weird._

_Right, weird._

“I expect ya both to be on yer best behaviour when our guests arrive, got it?” 

The guests are a family that moved to their neighbourhood last week, living a few houses away down the street. Hayami invited the Suna family to come over for dinner during the weekend as she bumped into Suna Chiyo at the mart. Apparently she has a ten year old son too and is expecting a daughter.

The doorbell echoes in the living room, leaving the twins and Hayami scrambling to the door. Atsumu shoves Osamu aside with his elbow to reach the door first. Hayami offers a stern look at her sons and mouths _behave_ before she swings the door open.

“Welcome! Come in.”

After dinner, Hayami ushers the boys into the twins’ shared room and asks the twins to befriend their new neighbour. Be nice, she said. She knows that’s asking for a lot. It doesn’t hurt to try.

“I’m Miya Atsumu! And this is Osamu.” Atsumu tells the boy who sits uncomfortably on the edge of Osamu’s bed as he points to himself and then his brother. “You can call us by our first names. We’re twins so that’s easier.”

The boy only nods and quietly says, “Suna Rintarou. Call me Suna.”

Osamu looks at Rintarou when he’s done inserting the game’s disk into the console and meets the other’s eyes. His lips quirk into a small smile and the boy returns the gesture, albeit tentatively before he looks away. 

Atsumu throws a controller into Rintarou’s lap. 

“Hope yer good at Call of Duty. I’m gonna kick yer butt.”

Rintarou is much better at ‘Call of Duty’, they find out after rounds of getting trashed at the game. The twins get on a first name basis with the new boy in town in less than a week. 

To Osamu, Suna becomes Rintarou. Then Rintarou becomes Rin.

Their little duo becomes a trio.

△

The initial awkwardness dissipates as Rintarou settles on the barstool by the counter. Rintarou tells him that he’s eaten so there’s no need to prepare anything for him; it’s fine, no really, you’re closed anyway, shut up I said it’s fine. 

They hit it off like they used to, soon enough. Osamu returns to cleaning the rest of his restaurant while they catch up. 

EJP Raijin ends the V. League Division 1 season in third place. Rintarou isn’t pleased about it but it’s been a brutal season and the team is awarded two weeks off from training to recover their body before they have to head back for even more gruesome practice. He’s in Osaka for a few days during this break to pay his grandparents a visit then plans to make his way back to Hyogo from there. 

So that’s how he ends up in Osamu’s humble onigiri restaurant, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to pay a visit if he’s already in the area. 

They fall into comfortable silence as Rintarou’s eyes wander around the interior of the place, properly studying the design and soaking all of it in for the first time.

It isn’t really big, but it’s enough. There are four modern tables for a group of four to five and two barstools by the counter. Behind the counter is the kitchen, a window broken into the wall for customers to watch as the chef prepares their onigiri. The restaurant becomes more traditional at the opposite end from the entrance where cushions neatly rest on the tatami mat that spreads on a section of the tiled floor. The tables are low for floor-sitting and it is placed next to the ceiling-to-floor window. All furniture are mahogany and the lights are dimmed in a warm yellow hue. 

Osamu tries to ignore the way Rintarou carefully examines the place and focuses on sharpening the knives for tomorrow as his last task for the night. Onigiri Miya is his current pride and joy, opened a few months back after what felt like eternity of planning. He feels extra conscious of Rintarou’s sharp eyes although Rintarou has already seen the worst of him, courtesy of being childhood friends and all.

“This place looks good, Samu. You did great.”

A small sigh of relief escapes his lips and his cheeks warm at the compliment. Rintarou looks at him through the window from the counter.

“‘Course it is. It’s mine,” he says, playing it off as if his hands haven’t been shaking in anticipation whilst he waits for Rintarou’s comment.

He accidentally cuts himself.

“Ow, fuck!”

A gush of blood spills from the cut, spreading across his palm. Osamu sets his knife on the table and makes his way to the sink, wincing as the water directly hits his wound. Rintarou bursts into the kitchen.

“You absolute fucking idiot. Where’s your first aid?”

Osamu purses his lips and jerks his chin at the cabinet below the sink. Rintarou kneels and nudges Osamu’s leg aside to open the cabinet. He spots the first aid kit tucked in a corner and reaches out for it. Osamu turns off the tap when Rintarou sets the box on a table next to the sink.

“C’mere. Gimme your hand.”

The alcohol swab burns when it makes contact with the wound. Osamu winces once more and jerks his hand away out of reflex when he feels the pain. Rintarou frowns, tugging Osamu’s hand towards him and holds it firmly. He presses the swab against the wound to clean it, Osamu almost jerking away again if not for his firm hold.

“Stay still, idiot. Should’ve been more careful.”

“It fuckin hurts, Rin.”

“Stop being such a baby bout it,” Rintarou huffs. “I’m going to bandage it now.”

Osamu watches quietly as Rintarou efficiently wraps a bandage around palm, no longer trying to pull his hand away. Rintarou does it quickly with practiced hands probably out of being a professional athlete who deals with injuries too often. When he’s done, his thumb strokes gently above the bandage. 

“All better. Wasn’t so bad, was it? You fuckin baby.”

“Shaddup.” Rintarou pulls his hand away from Osamu’s. “Thanks, Rin.”

* * *

_i’m falling apart over a memory, the weight in my heart is getting too heavy._

* * *

The breeze brushes against Osamu’s skin, goosebumps emerging from his arms out of the sudden gush of cool air. His legs are beginning to throb as he continues to push up the slope on his bike. Atsumu insists they ride up the high slope because the way down will be so worth it. Osamu only agrees when Atsumu yells, “Race ya to the top!” 

What else can he do besides power through the steep slope when he’s being challenged? Watching his twin lose is worth even more. 

Rintarou does not care for the race, choosing to get off the bike and walk up the slope as he drags the bike with him. It’s a hassle but it’s less tiring than being on the bike. He’ll get on it again when they ride down the slope. 

Osamu and Atsumu are right next to each other as they almost reach the top of the slope. His brother throws taunts at him towards the end to distract him to fall behind, but he only grunts in response and pushes through, powering up more strength in his legs and manages to get past Atsumu just barely. It’s an obvious win to Osamu. 

“Ha! Loser.”

He brushes off the sweat that drips from the side of his head with his sleeve. Atsumu pushes him, not hard enough for him to lose balance off the bike and tells him that it barely counts as a win when he was only an inch ahead. It doesn’t make Osamu any less smug about it.

Osamu ignores his brother to look for Rintarou who drags his bike up and huffs in annoyance when Osamu grins at him and calls out to him to speed up. He’s clearly not enjoying this but he reaches to the top and settles on his bike next to Osamu anyway.

The ride down is thrilling, the three of them screaming and laughing as the bike leads them to the bottom without any effort on their part. Osamu briefly peeks at Rintarou who smiles so wide next to him, a contrast to the usual bored look plastered on his face, and it makes him smile too.

It’s all fun and games until he hears Rintarou yelp in panic as he wobbles on his bike, unsteady. A scream follows as he falls off the bike towards the bottom end of the slope, body harshly slamming against the rough ground. Rintarou scrapes his knees and palms as a result of the fall.

“Shit, Tsumu. Pick up Rin’s bike.” 

He rushes to Rintarou’s side as Atsumu picks up the bike and sets it aside so Rintarou has space to sit up. Osamu notices the way Rintarou’s eyes well up but the boy still tries to keep a straight face even through the pain, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall. 

“What do we do, Samu?”

“We should leave our bikes here first. I’ll carry Rin home. Can ya help get him on my back?”

Rintarou makes a half-hearted noise in protest and Osamu hushes him as he crouches before the boy, whispering words of assurance to him as Atsumu assists him; it’s alright, it’s no problem Rin, you’ll be okay.

They make it back to the twins’ house where Hayami helps to disinfect and bandage the wounds all while chiding the boys for doing something so dangerous. They should’ve known better. What were they thinking? Look what happened. How will she explain this to his parents? 

Surprisingly enough, it is Atsumu who apologises first and admits that it was his idea. He feels bad about it, the guilt clear on his face as he can’t bear to look at Rintarou who is hurt because of him. The apology catches Hayami off guard, softening at the maturity and self-awareness she didn’t expect and she lets them off the hook without any punishment. 

Osamu stays with Rintarou after his mother finishes and Atsumu heads into the shower first out of the three. He gently caresses Rintarou’s knee where the bandages are, careful not to hurt him. 

“All better, Rin.”

The next words leave Rintarou’s lips so quietly that he almost misses it, but he catches it with no problem, used to paying attention to the other.

“Thanks, Samu.”

Osamu offers Rintarou his last popsicle from the fridge.

△

Raindrops pitter patter outside of Onigiri Miya just as Osamu finishes up. Rintarou is about to head out when he notices and announces that it is raining. His eyebrows furrow as he gazes at the window, watching as raindrops steadily scatter on the glass. 

Osamu realises the rain is an inconvenience for Rintarou.

“Where are ya staying?”

Rintarou averts his attention to Osamu now, replying, “At a hotel. Why?”

“Huh. Why aren’t ya staying with yer grandparents?” 

At the question, his expression subtly shifts to something Osamu is unable to read.

“Didn’t want to bother them.”

“Well, ya have two options right now. Ya can go upstairs and wait until the rain stops or I’ll send ya to yer hotel.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll just call a cab.”

“I said ya have two options.”

“I can do what I want.”

Osamu snorts at the other’s stubborn nature, not that he’s any different. They’ve bickered plenty of times because of it. Rintarou is looking at his phone, probably already trying to look for a cab. He snatches the device from the other with his better hand.

“What the fuck. Give that back to me.”

“I’m sending ya to yer hotel. Tell me which one.”

He reaches for his coat, slipping his arms into the sleeves, and his car keys, not bothering to wait a second longer and argue with Rintarou. The man’s phone is still in his hands. 

“How are you gonna drive me when your hand’s injured?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. But Osamu manages to convince (it’s more of forcing, Rintarou thinks) him to get in the car and he’s now sitting shotgun as he stretches the seatbelt across his body. He jokes about being worried for his safety in Osamu’s car. 

“I’m a better driver than Tsumu. Ya don’t hafta worry.”

“When did that fucker get a license? I think anyone would be a better driver than Tsumu. That hazard shouldn’t be on the road. This comparison isn’t helping your case.”

Osamu laughs and tells Rintarou to just trust him, dammit. Rintarou mutters a prayer when Osamu starts up the car. 

The drive is supposed to be thirty to forty minutes long and it is quiet between them, only the songs from the radio filling the silence. From his peripheral, he notices Rintarou’s head nodding as he dozes off five minutes into the ride. So much for not trusting Osamu on the wheel. The corner of Osamu’s lips twitches. 

He lets Rintarou sleep until he jolts awake by himself, his head slamming back against the headrest. Osamu glances sideways at him to ask if he’s alright.

“Yeah I—” Rintarou blinks and adjusts himself in his seat. “Just had that falling down to my death kind of dream.”

“Ah. Got ya.”

“Can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“Looks like ya feel safe around me.”

“Samu, I will literally reach out for the wheel and endanger us both right now if you don’t shut up.”

A shit-eating grin spreads across his face. Rintarou chooses to ignore him and stare out the window instead. The rain is heavier than when they first left the restaurant. He can barely see through the glass.

Osamu averts his gaze to his phone that hangs on the dashboard, the GPS on his screen showing him that they’ll arrive at their destination in a bit. 

“How long will ya be here?”

“Just until Friday.” That is in two more days, Osamu notes. 

“Ya already paid for the rest of yer stay? At the hotel, I mean.”

“No.”

“Ya should sleep at my place tomorrow.” He knows Rintarou is about to protest when he interrupts the other. “My home’s always open for ya, Rin. And it’s not like yer staying long. Don’t waste yer money.”

You could have told me you were coming, Osamu doesn’t say. They haven’t been on texting terms in almost a year. That still doesn’t mean Osamu wouldn’t look out for his friend.

“Really feel like I’m being held at gunpoint right now. Fuck am I gonna do? Say no?”

When the car stops at the drop off point sheltered from the rain, Rintarou lingers in his seat for a moment, staring at Osamu once again with a look he is unable to decipher. Osamu doesn’t know when it became difficult to read Rintarou. Perhaps it’s the time apart. 

Rintarou bids him goodnight and tells him to drive safe as he heads back. 

“See ya tomorrow. Night, Rin.”

* * *

_and in my mind,_

_think of ways to ask you,_

_why don’t you come over sometime._

* * *

The walk home is quieter without Atsumu when the boy has to stay in school for detention. It’s a funny thing, leaving him behind in school to pay for his deeds. Osamu can’t say he wasn’t part of the reason his brother is in detention and they’ll probably fight about it when Atsumu gets home but he pays no mind to it, not a hint of guilt to be felt. His brother deserved it anyway. 

He only has Rintarou with him now, walking next to him with their arms occasionally brushing because Rintarou has a habit of bumping into people as he walks even if it is unintentional. For some reason he’s unable to walk straight, his footing always straying. It could be due to his growth spurt but Osamu doesn’t really know. He doesn’t mind.

It is not often that he walks home with only Rintarou or does anything with just him, without Atsumu. His brother fills in the silence between them with no problem. Rintarou will speak to bruise his ego with a snarky remark. Osamu will laugh along with Rintarou. 

Without Atsumu, he simply walks with Rintarou in silence. But Osamu finds that it isn’t awkward. Being with Rintarou is always comfortable. 

Osamu suddenly feels a drop of water plop on the crown of his head. He looks up at the sky, the sun still out and shining, and brings up his hand to brush it off his hair. That’s weird.

The drops of water become more frequent, landing on different parts of his uniform now. Osamu furrows his brows, looking up once again and realises it’s drizzling despite the glaring presence of the sun. He turns to Rintarou to ask if he notices the drizzle. 

The drizzle turns into full heavy rain, drenching his uniform in a matter of seconds. Rintarou shrieks. They don’t have an umbrella.

“What the — it’s raining, Samu,” he states the obvious.

Rintarou starts to sprint off, leaving Osamu stunned by his abrupt movement, then his brain processes that he needs to get out of the rain too and he chases after the other. He turns to look at Osamu when he catches up, a smirk curving on his lips. Osamu understands. 

A challenge. 

They don’t have to announce where they’re racing to. The Miya house isn’t far away, sprinting can get them there in two minutes. Rintarou always follows them home after school anyway. He hangs around their home more than he does in his own. His father is at work and his mother is too busy taking care of his little sister.

Osamu speeds up. The water level on the ground steadily rises in the heavy rain and it splashes with every step they take, their socks soaking in the way. Rintarou swings his leg back and kicks the water at the back of Osamu’s legs.

“Ya little shit!”

It doesn’t take two minutes to get home. They end up staying in the rain for fifteen minutes, splashing water at each other as laughter rings in the empty walking path of their neighbourhood. Osamu’s cheek hurts from the way his face stretches in a wide toothy smile. 

They’re soaking wet when they enter the house, a trail of water following them as they tip toe in their socks, their clothes dripping. Hayami isn’t home to express her displeasure. They get away with it.

A high fever greets them the next morning. 

△

Rintarou makes his stop at Onigiri Miya in the afternoon when the lunch crowd simmers. The duffle bag hangs by his arm as he steps into the restaurant, the bell announcing his arrival. 

Osamu is in the kitchen, hands moulding the sticky rice into the shape of a triangle when Aoi greets the newcomer. He plates the onigiris and slides it through the window where he catches a glimpse of Rintarou who sits on the same barstool last night. Aoi asks if she can help.

There are no more orders. Osamu’s part timer has a shift scheduled in an hour and he doubts it will be busy until dinner time. Aoi can handle the rest of the day with the part timer’s help; she's reliable enough. He takes off the apron to call it a day for himself. 

“Rin, hi.” Rintarou whips his head to look in his direction, shoulders visibly relaxing at the familiar face. Osamu smiles softly. “Gimme a sec.”

“Can ya handle the place for me til closing?” Osamu asks his trusted employee.

Aoi doesn’t ask any more questions. She simply nods and bids Osamu goodbye, the situation clear as her eyes shift from Rintarou to Osamu. 

He thinks she deserves a raise. Perhaps when business is more stable and she sticks until then. It shouldn’t be long. Onigiri Miya is doing a lot better than he expected when he planned to open a restaurant. 

He thanks Aoi and beckons Rintarou to follow him as he pads to the stairs covered by a divider.

“Go up,” he tells Rintarou as he slides the divider. The man does as he’s told. 

They step into the genkan and slide off their shoes after Osamu unlocks the door to his home. It is more spacious than Rintarou expects, he tells Osamu. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy. Didn’t have time to clean up,” Osamu says when he feels self-conscious again. 

He doesn’t know why Rintarou affects him this way as he introduces his restaurant and the home upstairs to a long time friend. Osamu stands awkwardly behind Rintarou as he looks around, examining the place the same way he did the night before in the restaurant.

It’s a half-lie. He woke earlier than usual this morning to clean, or more like hurriedly shoved all the articles of clothing strewn on the floor that he sometimes forgets to pick up when he tiredly shrugs it off after work, into the laundry basket. There was no time to vacuum or wipe his furniture. All he could do was try to make the place look as proper as he can as he fluffed the cushions on the couch and adjusted the crocheted blanket draped on the top.

Osamu is not a messy person generally speaking. With his mother only home all day on weekends and returning late from work on weekdays, the twins learnt to look after themselves when they were younger, picking up on cleaning and cooking. Atsumu may be neater and more particular about the organisation of things because he was always responsible for cleaning duty, Osamu with cooking. But Osamu isn’t so far off in terms of cleanliness. 

Looking after himself when he lives alone and has to juggle with a business that takes up most of his time and energy just gets a little hard is all. 

Rintarou shakes his head and says, “It isn’t messy.” After a beat of silence he continues, “But it’s very… you.”

There is no hint of judgement in Rintarou’s voice. Osamu doesn’t take it as an insult but he looks away from his friend and studies his own place, squinting at what could possibly be ‘very him’.

“What the hell d’ya mean.”

Rintarou doesn’t answer and Osamu doesn’t probe further. 

The waft of yakisoba fills the room as Osamu sets the plates on the table, Rintarou already sitting cross-legged on the floor as he eyes the food in anticipation. Leftover onigiri from the breakfast menu this morning also makes its presence as Rintarou says he doesn’t mind eating it. 

There wasn’t time to eat before he checked out of the hotel as he chose to sleep in until the very last minute. It took him a while to fall into slumber the night before, spending most of the night tossing and turning restlessly. When his stomach grumbled embarrassingly, Osamu automatically headed into the kitchen to prepare a meal for them both. He was hungry too. 

“Itadakimasu,” Osamu says as he settles on the floor, cross-legged too.

“Itadakimasu.”

Osamu looks up at Rintarou as he chews opposite him, trying to gauge his reaction to the food but the man is as nonchalant as always, his face void of any expression that can tell Osamu how he feels about the food. Rintarou notices this, his eyebrow quirking up.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“At least tell me how it is.”

“Fishing for compliments much, Samu.”

“Nevermind. Ya can fuckin starve.” 

He reaches for Rintarou’s plate and the other shields it with his arm when he notices that Osamu is trying to take it away from him. Rintarou laughs through his nose, mouth still full of noodles and swats Osamu’s hand away. Osamu retreats. 

“Stop, I’m trying to eat. Food’s good.”

Osamu continues to look at him expectantly. Rintarou rolls his eyes, a smile teasing on his lips. 

“Food’s actually really, _really_ good. Not saying this just because you’re trying to fish for compliments. It’s the truth. You’re a lot better than last time. Now let me enjoy your godly cooking in peace.”

Osamu is satisfied and he takes another bite of his own cooking. Of course it’s good. 

“Ya got plans today?”

“No.”

Their legs brush against each other’s when Osamu re-positions himself, legs beginning to feel numb from the way he sits. He mutters a quiet apology. Rintarou isn’t bothered. 

“I’ll take ya out. Should explore the city while yer here.”

“Trying to be a tour guide now? It’s not my first time in Osaka. I’ve had matches here, y’know.”

“Oh sorry, Mr. Professional Volleyball Player Who Travels All The Time. Have ya explored for good food here though?”

“No. And we’re already eating right now.”

“Don’t be stupid. This isn’t enough.”

No point in trying to argue with Osamu especially when it comes to food. He knows Rintarou is just being difficult on purpose because he’s a piece of shit. There isn’t a slight chance that he is going to reject his offer. 

* * *

_my mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it._

* * *

The television serves as white noise. The boys have something important to discuss—just Osamu and Rintarou, that is. They’re hanging out with each other only as two more frequently now that Atsumu has a girlfriend and spends his free time over at her’s. It’s Atsumu’s third partner this year. Osamu knows his brother isn’t really that serious even this time and he doesn’t care.

Empty bags of potato chips are left on the couch in the space between them. There are crumbs scattered on Hayami’s crocheted blanket that has fallen behind their backs due to the constant accidental tugging as they leaned against the couch’s headrest. They know they’re only supposed to eat in the kitchen or the floor but Hayami is still at work so there is no one to stop them. They’ll clean up before she comes back. 

The crumbs aren’t important nor is the show playing on the television. What matters is Rintarou tells only Osamu, who has to swear on secrecy, that he has a date tomorrow. 

His date is apparently from a different school and Rintarou has never seen the other before. But the boy he is meeting claims they’ve crossed paths once and they share a mutual friend. The mutual friend, Rintarou finds out, isn’t much of a friend of his but is simply a classmate he only talks to when he needs answers for homework. 

“So yer tellin me, he saw ya once and fell in love with ya at first sight? And he got yer email from that classmate of yers after he saw ya? Sounds like a creep to me.”

“Shut up Samu. He’s pretty cool, I think.”

They have only talked for a week, how do you really know if someone’s ‘pretty cool’ in that short amount of time? Osamu scrunches his nose, lips curving downwards into a frown. It seems sketchy to him. He didn’t think Rintarou was interested in dating either. The boy has rejected far more confessions than Atsumu has received even if his twin claims otherwise.

“I dunno. It’s weird and sketchy.”

Rintarou heaves a sigh as he rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t care if you think it’s weird. I’m not asking for your opinion about this. I’m telling you because I need your help.”

The frown on Osamu’s face deepens. He doesn’t want to be involved in their date. He hopes Rintarou will not be asking him to accompany tomorrow. The last thing Osamu wants to do is watch Rintarou be gross with someone else when he has better ways to spend his time.

(He doesn’t).

“What help?”

Rintarou hesitates. There is a funny look on his face and Osamu thinks he might be embarrassed when he notices the way the tips of Rintarou’s ears are darkening into a shade of crimson. It takes a while for Rintarou to compose himself but Osamu watches him quietly, careful and patient.

“Just… I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

“So? Why does that matter?”

“People kiss on dates, Samu!” Rintarou exclaims exasperatedly. How was Osamu supposed to know when he hasn’t been on one or kissed a person before? 

It’s clear that Rintarou expects Osamu to know where the conversation is going because he looks at him with pleading, desperate eyes and doesn’t elaborate any further, hoping that he can read between the lines. Unfortunately for him, Osamu is a bit dense when it comes to this. Atsumu is more wellversed in the dating aspect. Osamu never bothers. 

“Okay…?”

Rintarou facepalms himself before he groans into his hands in frustration. Osamu feels a pang of guilt for not catching the drift of the conversation but he feels just as frustrated when Rintarou refuses to be straightforward. It’s not like he has a problem doing so. He’s always blunt. 

“Thought you were the smarter one but you’re almost just as bad. I need someone to practice kissing with before I have to kiss my date tomorrow, idiot. It’d be embarrassing if I was bad at it.”

Now Osamu gets it. His cheeks begin to warm and he sputters.

“Ya don’t hafta practice! It’s easy!”

“You’ve kissed before?”

“No.”

“So how do you know it’s easy?”

“Looks easy enough in movies.”

“God, you’re so stupid! Asking you was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve gone to Atsumu.”

“And inflate his ego? Y’know that’s worse.”

“Shut up. Will you let me practice with you or not?”

Osamu gulps as nervousness seeps into his system, his hands feeling clammy all of the sudden. It’d be his first time too. He doesn’t see any harm in trying though, so he nods.

Rintarou scoots to Osamu’s side, the empty bag of chips between them crinkles as his knees lean into the plastic. Osamu doesn’t know what to do, not really, but he tilts his head when he feels their lips lightly brush one another’s. A shiver runs down his spine. He shuts his eyes.

Their kiss is clumsy, teeth knocking at first when Rintarou leans into Osamu, mouth pressing too hard out of inexperience. There are no sparks, none of the ones people talk about in movies when they’re kissing someone for the first time. 

They pull away and stare at each other as they gasp for air.

“Was that okay?”

“I dunno. I can’t tell ya if it’s good. It’s my first time too, there’s nothing else I can compare it to.”

Rintarou nods.

“Try again?”

Osamu inches closer, his hand reaching up to cup Rintarou’s jaw before their lips meet into a kiss once more. 

He thinks the kiss is better this time. Their mouths move in sync languidly now that they’re more relaxed, Rintarou’s hand carding through Osamu’s hair as the kiss deepens. Osamu doesn’t think he needs to pull away for air, they can do this for a while. 

No sparks now, either. An unfamiliar feeling blooms in his chest instead.

The date is cancelled the next day, Rintarou backs out at the last minute; you’re right Samu, it does sound sketchy.

**△**

Rintarou complains about being so full that he’s having a hard time walking. They’ve been out restaurant-hopping and walking aimlessly through the streets of the city since they left the shophouse. 

The sky paints itself a darker shade of blue, the sun has set hours ago. The city is vibrant in the night, more so than the day when bright lights decorate the streets. The liveliness never ceases to amaze Osamu even when it’s been a year since he moved. It is one of his favourite features of the city. 

Rintarou’s visit to Osaka gave him an excuse to explore restaurants he’s been dying to try from the list of recommendations he found on the internet. Being an owner of his own restaurant meant little chances of having off days where he can roam about as he used to. 

Rintarou doesn’t need Osamu to tell him this. He already knows that Osamu had an ulterior motive up his sleeves when he offered to show Rintarou around, whining throughout the day about being Osamu’s lab rat who’s forced to be dragged with him. 

It is also good for his own business, he tries to convince Rintarou. It’ll inspire him to come up with new flavours for his menu. He’ll give Rintarou freebies. 

Rintarou says they’re past the point of just freebies.

Osamu decides it’s a good time for dessert. There’s always space for dessert, he tells Rintarou who whines about feeling stuffed. He still follows Osamu, the good lab rat that he is.

They find a street vendor that sells soft serve ice cream that is fifteen centimetres long. Rintarou gets the matcha-vanilla mix, green and white swirling tall in the waffle cone. Osamu’s ice cream swirls in orange and white, a milk tea-vanilla mix. 

They stand on the bridge that overlooks the river as they indulge in the dessert in their hand and talk. Their conversational topics have been endless, no awkward silences peeking through as they spend the day together. Osamu almost forgets they weren’t on talking terms for so long but he shoves the reminder into the back of his mind. It feels good to talk to Rintarou properly again, it always does. 

They are best friends. Were. Maybe not anymore. Osamu doesn’t know where he stands at this point. It doesn’t matter, or so he tells himself.

“Tsumu is tryna convince Sakusa about getting a dog now that they’re living together and he wants me to be the voice of reason because Sakusa trusts me more, as he should, really. But—”

Osamu falters when he feels Rintarou’s thumb swipe the side of his lip.

“Wait, sorry. You’ve always been such a messy eater, Samu.”

Rintarou shakes his head and clucks his tongue as he wipes the other side of Osamu’s mouth. When Rintarou tells Osamu to continue with what he was saying, he can’t recall a single thing he talked about.

* * *

_even if the sky’s on fire_

_i got you here, it’s alright._

* * *

The Inarizaki Volleyball team invades their local yakiniku restaurant at the end of their training camp, their presence boisterous with the meat grilling before them. The week long training camp leaves their muscles sore and their coach decides to reward his team with some meat after the vigorous training he’s put them through. 

Osamu thinks he’ll most likely sleep in tomorrow when his schedule is finally empty and he gets to be in the comfort of his own bed. For now he will eat as much as his stomach can take or as much as his coach allows.

Akagi is entertaining Atsumu with horror stories, their voices being the loudest at their table because they’re sitting diagonally from each other. Osamu doesn’t understand why Atsumu wouldn’t just switch places with Riseki who is sitting right next to Akagi. 

He is sandwiched between Atsumu and Rintarou. Osamu pardons Atsumu’s voice that rings loudly in his ears with how close they are because Atsumu is too busy conversing with Akagi to notice that he is stealing Atsumu’s portion of the meat on his side of the grill. Osamu thinks of this as a good opportunity. If he wants to eat then he should stop talking, as simple as that. 

Rintarou notices and snickers, not bothering to snitch on his actions to his twin. His captain however, the nice man that he is, politely interrupts Atsumu and Akagi’s conversation to remind them to eat before everyone else eats their share. Atsumu obediently abides, his mouth no longer spewing words, now focusing on chewing his food.

Kita’s gaze flickers to Osamu, his eyes exude a soft but stern warning. He will snitch the next time it happens. 

Osamu grins sheepishly.

Rintarou drops the remaining of the meat in his plate into Osamu’s, claiming that he is full. Atsumu catches the act.

“What the hell, Rintarou! Why does Samu always get yer leftovers? I want some too.” 

Osamu swats his twin’s hand from reaching into his plate for the extra meat he’d gotten from Rintarou. Atsumu whines, jostling his shoulder against Osamu’s and exclaims it is unfair. 

“He likes me more.”

“Well fuck the both of ya.”

It doesn’t take long for Osamu to finish all the meat on his plate. The team is ready to take their leave from the yakiniku restaurant as it is getting late. Kita leads them to tidy up the table to make it easier for the workers to clean up after them. 

“Samu, you’re saving the rice for when you get home too?”

“Huh?”

Rintarou picks out the grain stuck on Osamu’s cheek with his fingers. Osamu smiles at him abashedly, muttering his thanks. 

Exhausted from the long week, Osamu looks forward to his slumber as he lays on his side. He’s about to drift off to sleep when his twin calls his name. He ignores Atsumu’s voice at first until it becomes impossible because Atsumu is annoying and doesn’t know how to take the hint. 

“Fuck d’ya want, Tsumu? Don’t talk to me unless yer dying. Actually don’t talk to me even then. I don’t care, I’m tryna sleep.”

“Asshole. When I die then ya will realise.” Osamu snorts. “I just wanna ask ya something.”

“What.”

“Rintarou and ya got something going on?”

Osamu’s eyes snap open, his heart picking up its rate. “What? Why would ya ask that?” The pitch of his voice raises when he asks the question and he hopes Atsumu ignores it.

“Just answer the question, Samu.”

“No we don’t, fuckin dimwit. We’re best friends. That’s weird.”

“Right. ‘Course. Night, Samu.”

Yeah, Osamu and Rintarou are best friends.

△

It is past Onigiri Miya’s closing hours by the time Osamu and Rintarou head back. They’re exhausted and their bellies are content. Osamu thinks he will sleep well tonight. 

He ruffles his hair with the towel, fresh out of the shower and droplets of water splatters on Rintarou’s arm in the midst of drying his hair. Rintarou looks away from the television to shoot a glare at Osamu and wipes his arm, making a displeased noise. Osamu is unapologetic, grinning as he plops on the side of the couch opposite Rintarou’s end. Rintarou positions his body to face Osamu, his knees bent against his torso.

“The room’s ready for ya. I cleared my things on the bed.”

“What are you talking about? I’m sleeping on this couch tonight.”

“No. Yer sleeping on the bed.”

“I’m not,” Rintarou persists.

A sigh escapes Osamu’s mouth. He knows it will take time for Rintarou to agree, the man challenging Osamu as always. 

“Yer a guest. It’s not right if ya take the couch. My room’s neat, I promise. And there are no monsters under the bed so there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Rintarou scoffs and stretches his leg out to kick Osamu’s thighs. 

“I’m not a kid. And since when did me being a guest matter? When we were kids you and Tsumu never cared to offer me your beds. I always slept on a futon on the floor next to your bunk bed every time I came over.”

Osamu laughs, wistful as his mind takes him back to those times. Rintarou has wrestled them for a place in their beds but he always ends up getting kicked back onto the floor, neither twin willing to share their space. Their beds are too small to squeeze two people. Osamu likes to make full use of the bed, limbs comfortably spread out as he sleeps. Atsumu just likes to leave Rintarou suffer on his own.

“Well I care now. Ya can take this as compensation for all the times we never did.”

“No.”

“Stop being stubborn, Rin. I’m not leaving the couch tonight. Ya don’t have a choice.” 

Osamu gets up to dig out the extra pillows and blanket he stored in a cabinet next to the television. He places them on the coffee table, deciding to wait when Rintarou retreats to his room to set up his sleeping space.

“Fine. I’m going to make a mess in your room since you’re offering. You’ll regret this.”

“Knock yerself out.”

“What time are you waking up?”

“At four. Shop opens at seven. I gotta start preparing early.”

“Christ, how do you wake up at ass-crack of dawn every day?” Rintarou scrunches his nose in disgust. His training also begins in the morning but there isn’t a need to wake up before the sun rises. While some of his teammates start their day earlier for morning jogs before practice, Rintarou likes to maximise the time he gets to sleep up to the very last minute. “Guess I should head inside so you can sleep.”

“Got used to it. I get to sleep in a little on Sundays when we open later, at noon. And ya can go in whenever ya like. Don’t think I’m sleeping anytime soon.”

“I’ll watch the tv with you for a bit.”

“Ya still having trouble sleeping?”

Rintarou nods. “Yeah, I take melatonin sometimes but I don’t want to rely on it too much.”

“I can make ya some tea. I think there’s chamomile.”

“No need. Leaf water is disgusting.”

“Yer disgusting.” That earns another kick on the thigh from Rintarou, then he rests his legs on Osamu’s lap as he leans his back against the armrest. Osamu doesn’t push it away. “Yer leaving for Hyogo tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. In the evening.”

“I’ll send ya to the station.”

Rintarou doesn’t oppose it.

At some point as old late night cartoons display on the television, Rintarou dozes off first. Osamu chuckles softly at the sight of the other male, his mouth ajar as his head lolls back. It seems that Rintarou ends up winning their argument about who sleeps on the couch. He looks so tired that Osamu doesn’t have it in him to wake Rintarou to get him on the bed instead. 

Osamu drapes the blanket over Rintarou’s body and whispers at him to sleep well. 

* * *

_you might be sleeping without a care and in the morning i’ll be here._

* * *

The top bunk is occupied by Rintarou, the boy filling Atsumu’s absence as he will spend the night (and the rest of the nights in the week much to their pleasure) at the youth national training camp. The night is peaceful without Atsumu blabbering nonsense as he usually does before they sleep. There is no white noise for Osamu to fall asleep to tonight. Rintarou is quiet.

He shifts in his bed, the blanket rustling as he rolls on his back to stare at the bottom surface of the bunk above him. 

“Rin. Are ya asleep?” 

The reply is immediate.

“No.”

Osamu knows he isn’t, he only asked to break the silence. Rintarou always sleeps the last out of the three of them whenever he sleeps over. The boy doesn’t spend the night at the Miya household as frequently as he used to, preferring the comfort of his own bed as his back is beginning to hurt from sleeping on the floor as he gets older. Atsumu retorts that it doesn’t hurt from sleeping on the floor but due to his poor posture. At that he received a punch in the arm, well deserved. 

It is the first night without Atsumu. For some reason Osamu is taking longer to fall asleep although he thought it’d be easier since there will be no one to bother him. 

“How d’ya think Tsumu’s doing?” Osamu finds himself asking. He’s not that concerned about his brother. 

(He is).

“Hopefully being put into place by someone there. His head’s been getting too big, don’t you think?”

“Yer right ‘bout that. He needs to be humbled.”

Rintarou hums in agreement.

“I’m sure he’s fine though. How’re _you_ doing without him?”

“Having the best time. I really should’ve eaten him in the womb.”

Osamu hears a breathy laugh from Rintarou. Silence hangs in the air between them, their conversation on pause. The top bunk creaks as Rintarou moves in the bed. 

Rintarou continues, “Do you wish you were there with him?”

“No. I don’t wanna continue volleyball after this, remember?”

“Right.”

“I’m not jealous of Tsumu for being invited instead of me. He’s always loved the sport more than I did, y’know? There’s a fire in him that I don’t have when it comes to volleyball and it’s fine. We don’t have to do the same things forever. Think I’m destined for something else.”

The day they fought when Osamu expressed that his future is not in volleyball still replays in his mind—every punch, every harsh word, every way Atsumu’s face contorted from confusion to anger to disappointment is crystal clear. 

Their mother only sighed when the boys returned home with bruises and scratches on their faces, not bothering to ask for an explanation from them. She quietly tended to them with first aid but Osamu thinks it was intentional when she pressed harder on their wounds. Atsumu remained mad at Osamu for a couple of days, giving him the silent treatment. 

He came to terms with it eventually, not that he fully understood Osamu’s intentions. They talked again about mundane things as if the fight never happened. 

“What do you think you're destined for?”

“I dunno yet. But I’ll be happier than Tsumu.”

Somewhere in the midst of their late night talk, Osamu falls asleep. Rintarou’s presence is still comforting enough. 

△

The lunch crowd is bigger than usual with people occupying all the spaces in Onigiri Miya and a line forms outside the restaurant, the people queuing choosing to order takeaways when they find that there isn’t a place for them to eat in. 

Osamu is not prepared for the crowd. The store is only run by Aoi and himself as his part timers are scheduled later in the evening. It isn’t a usual occurrence. The lunch crowd doesn’t extend to a line outside even on other Fridays. His hand almost cramps from the amount of onigiri he is moulding. 

What a blessing his business has been.

A thirty minute break comes around when the crowd dies down enough for only one person to manage which takes a while. Aoi goes first then Osamu. He takes his break at the back of the shophouse, settling on the stool next to the backdoor.

His shoulders and forearm aches from the continuous orders. When the part timers are in the store to handle the floor and cashier, the only other person who knows his recipes and is able to help in the kitchen is Aoi. She normally has to help out only on weekends. Without her in the kitchen today, he had to take the brunt of the orders alone. He massages his shoulder with one hand and holds his onigiri with the other. 

The break is interrupted by a continuous buzz on Osamu’s leg. He digs into his pocket to retrieve his phone, the screen displaying his brother’s name. His face darkens, a frown tugging at his mouth but his thumb slides to accept the call. 

“Heya! How’s my precious little brother doing?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tsumu. I’m not yer little brother, we’re twins. What does ya ugly ass want? Ya always pick the worst time to call.”

Atsumu whistles on the other line. “Bad day?”

“No. Just been busy.”

“Busy’s good! Guess ya can treat me to dinner at the end of this month.”

“Yer a professional athlete. Pay for yer own food with yer fat wallet.”

“So stingy, Samu.”

“Ya haven’t answered my question. What d’ya want?”

“Why do ya always assume I want something when I call? I just wanted to talk to ya!”

“Bullshit.”

Nine out of ten times Atsumu calls when he’s in trouble or wants to request a favour from Osamu. The remaining is when he calls just to bother Osamu because Sakusa isn’t around to entertain him and he has free time to spare. Atsumu never cares if Osamu is at work, that bastard. If Osamu doesn’t pick up then he will try again in intervals until he does. Every day Osamu regrets not eating the nuisance in the womb when he had the chance. 

“It’s true, Samu! Wanted to check up on ya. Ya free tonight? I can come over.”

Osamu concludes that Sakusa is not with his brother. He remembers that the volleyball season ended last week. Sakusa might have headed to Tokyo to pay his family a short visit during their break, leaving Atsumu alone in their shared apartment. It is plausible.

“Where’s Sakusa?”

“Visiting his family,” Atsumu says, the disappointment obvious in the lilt of his voice. The answer doesn’t surprise Osamu.

“Ya can come over tomorrow, I got plans today. Seeing Rin off.”

“The fuck! That asshole’s here? How long has he been here? Why did none of ya tell me?”

“Slipped our minds I guess.” He hears Atsumu scoff in disbelief. “He came on Wednesday to visit his grandparents for a bit before going back home to his family. He’s leaving in a few hours. Ya wanna see him later or what?”

“No, fuck yall. Always leaving me out on shit.”

What Atsumu doesn’t know is: This is the first time Rintarou is reaching out to Osamu after so long. Meanwhile Rintarou continued to keep in contact with his twin. Osamu only learns about Rintarou’s well-being through Atsumu. Whenever Rintarou was brought up in their conversations, he had to pretend he knew what Atsumu was talking about. It might have been out of selfish motives when he decided not to share about Rintarou’s arrival in Osaka.

Osamu isn’t ready to open up to his brother about it yet either.

“Suit yerself. Don’t think he cares if ya come anyway.”

“Yer a piece of shit. I know he cares ‘bout me! I’m on his close friends list on Instagram. Anyway, what’s he visiting his grandparents for? His family never went to theirs even on new years after the whole drama.”

“What?”

“Yeah? Why would Rintarou visit his grandparents when they aren’t on good terms? They kicked his family out because of some feud and then sold the house and moved. That’s why Rintarou’s family moved into our neighbourhood. So I can’t think of why Rintarou would visit suddenly.”

Osamu stays quiet on the line as he processes the new information. He’s unsure why Atsumu knows Rintarou’s background and he doesn’t. It makes sense suddenly why Rintarou was staying at the hotel. Rintarou also barely met up with them during his stay. If Atsumu is speaking the truth, he can’t be here for them.

“Ya didn’t know about this huh, Samu? I know something about him that ya don’t. Guess he cares about me more,” Atsumu teases. 

“Shut up. Why do ya know so much?” 

His brother likes to probe, regardless if the person he is talking to is someone he’s just met or he’s known for a long time. He is tackless like that. But being with Atsumu constantly meant he’d know things about others too, most of the time.

“I just asked why they moved to Hyogo. He didn’t tell me what the drama was about though. He didn’t know about it either.”

“Wasn’t I there too? We were always together.”

“I dunno. Probably not since ya didn’t know.”

As Osamu looks up he notices a familiar figure walking towards him, returning from wherever. As people slowly filed in right before the lunch crowd hit at full force, Rintarou left the store and told Osamu he was heading to his grandparents to bid them goodbye. Osamu isn’t sure anymore.

He tells Atsumu that he’ll call again later, his brother’s voice cuts off mid-way as he hangs up. 

Rintarou’s shoulders are slouched, one hand in the pocket of his black bomber jacket and the other holding a plastic bag as he walks. He stops before Osamu, muttering a greeting. 

“Hi, Rin. What have ya got there?”

“Okonomiyaki from the place you like. Thought you could eat this when you have your break but it looks like you already ate. I waited forever in the line.”

A gust of wind blows, sweeping Rintarou’s hair with it and Osamu brushes the mussed locks away from his face. His mouth lifts into a small smile when he hears the way Rintarou’s breath hitches. 

Osamu finally dares to look at Rintarou properly now, after a long time. The sun is reflecting at the right angles on Rintarou, bringing out his features under the natural golden light. He notices a tiny mole beneath his lower lashes that he knows wasn’t there before. His eyes flicker to Rintarou’s lips. 

Pretty.

* * *

_when i see you i feel like i’m dancing in the sun,_

_when i breathe you all my feelings fall back into one,_

_i don’t want to fall in love_

_but i’ll write your favourite song._

* * *

“So pretty like this, Rin.”

Osamu tucks Rintarou's hair behind his ear; the man looks at him with low lidded eyes, his face flushed and lips bruised and slick with spit. He lays bare beneath Osamu, hips between Osamu’s thighs, his shirt was peeled off him with eager hands and tossed to the floor minutes ago. Rintarou glows in the moonlight that peaks through the spaces between Osamu’s curtains. 

He leans into the touch when Osamu cradles his face gently, thumb rubbing his cheekbones.

“Yer sure about this?”

EJP Raijin had contacted Rintarou a week ago with the intention to sign him into their team. He will make his way straight to Shizuoka first thing tomorrow morning where the team is based, taking a pit stop in Osaka first to celebrate his new beginnings with Atsumu and Osamu. The twins recently moved, with Atsumu signed into MSBY Black Jackals which are based in the city and Osamu intends to open a restaurant, still in the midst of the first few stages of planning.

Alcohol was involved as they enjoyed dinner courtesy of future chef and restaurant owner Osamu in the living room of his rental apartment hours ago. As Atsumu retired for the night and left to head back to his dorm, Osamu and Rintarou became handsy on each other along the way somehow. The buzz may have made them bold at first but it has simmered for Osamu by the time he led Rintarou to his room, his hands sure in Rintarou’s and head clear. He wonders if Rintarou is the same.

“I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re asking.” Rintarou pushes the lower half of his body upwards, the friction on Osamu’s crotch has him intaking a sharp breath. “I want this.” Want you. “Fuck me already, Samu. Please.” The plea comes out in a whisper.

“So eager.” 

A smirk flickers on Osamu’s lips, his fingers lightly ghosting over Rintarou’s skin as it traces south. It stops above the belt.

Osamu leans in to press a soft kiss on Rintarou’s lips then he dips into the juncture of Rintarou’s shoulder that meets his neck, mouth latching and tongue swirling on the skin. Rintarou’s hand tugs at Osamu’s hair as he lets out a breathy moan, the sound so pretty Osamu relishes in it. 

“Samu. Osamu.” Another plea. He really likes the way his name rolls on Rintarou’s tongue.

Osamu learns about Rintarou in ways he never had—every touch, every kiss, every sound ingrained in his memory and ignites a fire in his heart, burning a stronger desire that makes his chest swell.

The shinkansen for Shizuoka leaves in ten minutes. The passengers are being called to board the transport. Rintarou’s hand is wrapped around the handle of his luggage and he is ready. Osamu wishes time would slow. 

His eyes crinkle as he smiles at Osamu. 

“I have to go. See you when I see you? Probably when I beat Atsumu’s ass. You’ll be there to see it, won’t you?”

“Rin, I—"

_I think I love you._

_I think I always have._

Osamu doesn’t say. 

He shakes his head and laughs, just bids Rintarou farewell and wishes him luck.

△

The okonomiyaki is shared between the two of them before Rintarou does some last-minute packing. Osamu leaves the restaurant to Aoi and the part timers for the dinner crowd. 

He sits on the couch as he watches Rintarou slip his final belongings into the duffel bag and zips it. Rintarou is clueless to the way Osamu’s chest stirs and thoughts racing. 

There are answers he is looking for.

“Rin.” The other hums in response. “Why are you here in Osaka?”

Rintarou pauses, then looks up at Osamu with the same unreadable expression he sees more often since Rintarou appeared suddenly. Osamu figures it is the face he makes when he’s hiding something, a face he never had to try to decipher when they’ve shared everything for the longest time. 

“I told you, didn’t I? To visit my grandparents.”

“You haven't visited them since you were ten.”

“I visit them now.”

“I don’t think so, Rin. Tell me, why are you _really_ here?” Osamu heaves a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands out of frustration before he continues, 

“Because you stopped answering my texts and we haven’t talked in close to a year and you suddenly show up here with an excuse I know isn’t true. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy about spending time with you, but I don’t know how to feel about everything else because I don’t know where I stand in your life anymore. 

I don’t understand this. Have you been avoiding me because you regret that night? Will you stop talking to me again once you go back? Or are we still friends? Did you come here for me?”

The last question comes out hopeful. The beat of Osamu’s heart drums so hard in his chest he thinks it’s possible that it can be heard in the silence between them when Rintarou continues to look at him wordlessly. He feels so vulnerable, the contents of his heart spilling and out in the open for Rintarou to see. Rintarou may pick up the pieces or he may not.

* * *

_we fucked so hard, it left me faded._

_for all that you are,_

_there is no other love, it’s only yours._

* * *

The replies take longer at first in the following weeks. Osamu assumes Rintarou must be really busy settling into the team and the new environment. He’s occupied with the plans for the opening of his restaurant, his dream becoming a step closer with each day. Securing a vendor is a bit tricky but he thinks he might have a chance. 

That night’s events replay in his mind but it isn’t brought up in their conversations. Osamu thinks it might have been a one-time thing. He tries to ignore the longing that creeps into his chest when he sleeps alone.

In the next month, it is complete radio silence. Osamu’s texts are left ignored and unopened. He doesn’t think settling into EJP Raijin is enough of a reason anymore. There are no explanations, no apologies, no calls. He busies himself with ideas for his menu; he’s decided to open a small onigiri restaurant. The venue of the restaurant has been secured and it is to be furnished in the next few months. The cracks of his heart are unattended. 

Rintarou doesn’t text even when Onigiri Miya has announced its opening and the MSBY Black Jackals have flooded social media pages to promote the restaurant. Other volleyball players in the league have also shared the posts and it is bound to land on Rintarou’s feeds. 

The opening is busy, busy, busy. It leaves Osamu overwhelmed. 

At the end of the day when Osamu is washed over with fatigue, he itches to send a message to Rintarou. The message is left as a draft when his thoughts convince him that Rintarou may not want to hear from him anymore.

Osamu focuses on his business for the following months, winning over regulars and manages to open pop-ups during the V. League season for MSBY Black Jackals’ matches. He watches the match against EJP Raijin through the screen. MSBY Black Jackals bring home a win. 

There isn’t a need to reach out for his phone to click on a certain contact name anymore. 

Then Rintarou appears at the entrance of Onigiri Miya, steps tentative as he walks in.

* * *

_tell me baby,_

_do you want me like i want you?_

* * *

The expression on Rintarou’s face cracks and his lips snag in his teeth. Osamu wonders if he is nervous too. Rintarou looks away, takes a deep breath and turns his head to Osamu again, narrow eyes boring into his.

“I… I was scared. I didn’t regret that night. I told you I wasn’t drunk, didn’t I? I wanted it. I can’t stop thinking about it, haven’t stopped thinking of you even when we didn’t talk. There were so, so many times I wanted to call you—wanted to congratulate you for achieving your dreams, to hear your voice when I’m lonely at a place I can’t familiarise myself with, to tell you things I can’t tell anyone else. I just couldn’t bring myself to.”

Rintarou pauses, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“I’ve liked you for a long time, y’know. Kissing someone else wouldn’t be the same after I did it with you first. I’ve liked you since then. But things changed that night and I realised this isn’t just a silly crush I can brush off any longer because I want more. I want you in ways I don’t know I’m deserving of. This is love. I’m in love with you. I love you, Samu.

I didn’t know what to do when I realised that. I was going off to somewhere new and we had other plans for ourselves, it would’ve been selfish of me to tell you. I started to think maybe it’s a good thing if we don’t hear from each other. Maybe I’ll just have to get over you so we can be friends and go back to normal. But I missed you and before I knew it, I bought a ticket straight to you. I’m sorry I lied.”

A burst of emotions surges in Osamu’s chest. He feels like his breath is knocked out of him as his mind tries to process the words. It is stuck on replaying: This is love. I’m in love with you. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Rintarou offers his heart bare in his hands, his eyes softening and vulnerable as they stare into Osamu’s.

“Rin, c’mere.”

“What?”

“I said c’mere.” Osamu pats the space on his lap, beckoning the other to get on. Rintarou furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he takes careful steps toward Osamu.

Osamu encircles his hand around Rintarou’s wrist when he only stands in the space between Osamu’s legs and pulls him into his lap, eliciting a noise of surprise out of him. His fingers run through Rintarou’s hair, then he slides his hand down to cup Rintarou’s cheek.

“Yer so stupid,” He mumbles. “Can I kiss ya?”

“Please,” Rintarou breathes. 

Osamu leans forward, lips meeting Rintarou’s into a soft kiss. Rintarou clutches onto Osamu’s shirt, hands balled into a fist and pushes Osamu further into the couch until his back is pressed against it. The kiss turns hungry, tongues eventually slipping into their mouths and greedy for more.

It leaves them gasping for air when they pull away. Osamu breaks the silence first.

“Stay with me tonight, Rin. I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of time. Let me be with you for another day.”

The ride to Hyogo is forgotten. Rintarou lays in Osamu’s arms as he rests his head on Osamu’s chest, their bodies stripped of clothes. They spent the night making up for lost time with needy touches and open confessions.

“Samu.”

“Hm?”

Rintarou slips out of Osamu’s arms to straddle his thighs, the man immediately bringing his hands to rest on his hips. A suggestive look appears on Osamu’s face as if asking _another round?_ Rintarou smiles down at him fondly.

He shakes his head and leans in to press a kiss on Osamu’s forehead, _I’m sorry for everything,_ then trails kisses along Osamu’s jaw, _I miss you so much,_ then on the side of Osamu’s mouth just barely missing his lips, _I love you more than you know._

Osamu reaches for his hand and brings it to his mouth, lips gently pressed on the back of Rintarou’s hand. _I love you, I’m yours._

Everything falls into place—their hearts are content. There is no need to run away. They’ll take on the world together, as they always have. 

This is love: Osamu and Rintarou, Rin and Samu.

**Author's Note:**

> the song lyrics that break the present and past are derived from the playlist attached above except for: 'my mouth has not shut up about you since you kissed it' which i got from alex turner's letter to alexa chung. 
> 
> i hope this fic has been a pleasure for you to read as it was for me to write. thank you for sticking to the end and giving this a chance! 
> 
> special thanks to 🍙 for pushing me through all my writing moments with nice comments and motivating me with brainrotting content always.


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